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Bio:

Trousta, son of Bousta, of House Glorzak, Clan Azoril, was once a proud paladin of the holy order Paldathra Olghar. The clan specialized in one thing: being holy lawkeepers of Paldath (dwarven god of war), and the ultimate fighting force of Gimrak. Like any dwarven undercity, races of the Underdark proved to be a problem. In Gronnfjell, it was drow and duergar specifically. But usually never at the same time, as the drow and duergar of Gronnfjell were at war with each other as well. The drow of A’sietun’ame had assembled an assault battallion and had launched a surprise invasion into the entrance hall of the city. As the Clan Lords and the Clan King mobilized their forces, the Clan Lord and Clan Wardens of Azoril promised that the Paldathra Olghar would buy the time the king needed. Even if their lines had been broken, the drow were no match for the force of dwarf paladins known as the Paldathra Olghar. Nothing but the stone walls of the hall were supposed to have their backs. Only then, the fortified walls of the entrance hall fell to rubble behind them as a duergar assault battallion came barreling in behind them. The Paldathra Olghar could’ve taken the drow force easily, but only with their full concentration. Now with a fight on either side of them, they were at a disadvantage. The Clan Lord deferred to his Clan Wardens, who all agreed that retreat was physically and honorably not an option. They could not spare even a messenger, despite the fact the messenger couldn’t have gone anywhere without running into enemy soldiers. The mighty Paldathra Olghar fought to the last man and held the hall. That last man was Trousta. When the Clan Lords and Clan King descended with their mobilized forces, the fighting was done. Blood and bodies littered the ground. There were no moans or cries of pain. Just the weezing and raspy weeping of one dwarf survivor. Trousta sat with a drow blade through the right side of his chest clutching the body of his cousin. Around him, the corpses of his mother and father, grandparents and sister, kin, and clan littered the ground. Trousta the lone survivor proved easy to heal as he was in shock. For days he said and did nothing. Then he only cried. That soon turned to drink. Trousta couldn’t bear to live in the empty clanhold. He resolved to move southwest to Corealta and drink himself to death. He came to live in The Orphium and quickly garnered a humorous reputation, and the nickname “Crawdaddy”. When the Black Blade sacked Corealta, he was imprisoned without alcohol. When Victor Davion released him, he took an offered sword and, sober and furious, marched off into Corealta, swearing to kill all who had a hand in the death of his friend Sorlet. His current whereabouts are unknown.